


Bold Healing

by Pickle_turtle



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:57:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pickle_turtle/pseuds/Pickle_turtle
Summary: I'm sorry by advance, it is not a happy story, with no happy ending. Only cry.It's part of a prompt from the dragon age kink journal :Dorian/M!Lavellan Using necromancy to bring back his dead lover





	Bold Healing

The chamber was cold. Doors and windows close, barred of light.

  
The corpse of candles covers the ground and the furniture. As much as flowers, already starting to wilt. The bright colors of the petal fading away.

  
The sun long gone. He has no need of the sun anymore.

  
Him, neither.

  
It would be nothing, he says. Only some lost Scout too fond and bring back. Nothing to worry, He says.

  
An arrow… Nothing

  
A poisoned arrow.

  
No one saw it.

  
The First day everything was fine. Laughter and jokes on the road.

  
On the second day. The fever starts too grown. Nothing at first. Tiredness.

  
On the third day, everything goes quickly. No one sees it. The fever. No, a fire who takes everything. And left only burned ground.

  
Madness.

  
Delirious, he calls. His lover. But so far away. Tears in his eyes, he already knew what was coming. Not the others.

  
Not Dorian.

  
When the four-day start to draw. It was already finished. No sound. No tears. Not for him. For everyone else.

  
The silence.

  
That who Nym Lavellan dies. The Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste is now to the Maker side.

And they're nothing to worry anymore. Nothing to feel either. Is chest hurt. He has no tears anymore.

Mourning. He had to stop thinking of him.

Have a feeling for him.

He still thinks he won’t come bouncing laughing after a prank with Sera. After a joke Bull. A storys of Varric.

But Dorian isn't there when he dies, and when he finds out he wants uses his necromancy to bring Lavellan back. At last, just long enough to tell him he loves him, he tries to convince himself.

He looks asleep as if nothing was wrong. He would wake up. In a minute. Asking for a kiss. Thanking him that overnight. Each morning it's the same.

But he knew he wouldn’t.

Not without help.

“Please,” He begged the silent darkness as cold tears fell uncontrollably down his cheeks, “Please don’t leave me, I need you.”

  
The moon passed between the curtain. The pale moonlight casts a deathly pallor on his features, and he could see his chest struggle to rise beneath the covers.

  
He pulled him to him and lay there with his head on his chest, listening with pain as he drew breath after strangled breath.

“Do — do — Dorian…”

He catches him in is harm. Joy in his chest. Kissing tenderly in cheek and lips.

Until gentle fingers taking is visage between his hands.

“Let me go, Dorian.”

The ashes come back stronger.  
“No, I can’t.”

“Let me go...”

“I can’t!”

“Dorian… please.”

“I won’t let you die on me. And I won’t let you die again, not when-“

BEAT

“Oh, Amatus…” He kisses him on more time.

BEAT

“I love you.”

He holds the petite elf stronger in his arms. Praying to anyone to let his lover go.  
His grip starts to fall. The body in his arm disappearing.

But it would not dwell on this thought, he has to be strong. His love would save him.

Right, that's what love was for.

To be stronger, to resolve an impossible tasks. To keep life worth living.

Live not die.

Oh, Maker! Nym was dying! Maker, please! Don’t take him from me!

He was so scared to open his eyes. He could feel Nym petting his hair. Murmuring words in his ears.

“Thank you, Ir abelas. Ar lath ma, vhenan... Ma ghilana mir din'an.”

Without understanding. A cry escapes him. He was holding empty air.  
Tears wheel on his face. His lover's name on his lips.

Screaming it until he has no voice any longer.

He cries until no tears could ever form in his eyes anymore.

It was more than crying, desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope.

His chest hurting.

Crushing.

A rock sitting inside and on his chest.

A weight heavier.

And heavier.

And heavier.

And heavier.

His breathing becomes erratic. Each breath becoming more difficult than the last.

Until it stops.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry by advance, it is not a happy story, with no happy ending. Only cry.
> 
> It's part of a prompt from the dragon age kink journal :  
> Dorian/M!Lavellan Using necromancy to bring back his dead lover


End file.
